


we dont own the world around us

by bevmantle



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, final boss tommy coolatta, kind of? not entirely sure how to tag for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26486452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevmantle/pseuds/bevmantle
Summary: This path, this ending was never supposed to happen.Tommy is the final boss. Gordon feels the world shatter into pieces around him.
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	we dont own the world around us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coolattaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolattaz/gifts).



> major content warning for suicidal ideation; tommy asks gordon to put him out of his misery, though whether or not gordon does is left somewhat ambiguous. the rating is set at teen bc, while there is some (canon-typical) violence, it isnt described very graphically. pls let me know if i need to change that or add any warnings!
> 
> also, listen to [true thrush by dan deacon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0_AEJnpWzA) while u read this fic cause i thought abt it the entire time and its truly the mood vibes

Everything about the situation felt deeply wrong. Wrong in a way that penetrated the HEV suit and curled itself deep inside Gordon’s gut, the way a feral animal couches itself under a suburban porch. Gordon didn’t know how this had been supposed to go. He had no way of guessing, couldn’t even sense the near-infinite combinations of possibilities that branched out from every decision he had made, going all the way back to the very first step he took into Black Mesa on the day of the incident—maybe even before that. Maybe this path had been set in motion, the ending locked in, before Gordon even had a hope of conceptualizing a collection of data points as nebulous as _Black Mesa._ It didn’t matter. The only truth, the only thing Gordon knew, as surely as he knew himself ( _Did_ he know himself? What is _the self_ if not another ever-changing collection of data points?) that this—this path, this ending— _was never supposed to happen._

“It—it’s okay, Mister Freeman,” Tommy called out, and his voice was everywhere, everywhere. “Don’t be scared!”

Gordon could have laughed, then. Could have dropped down onto his knees in the red, red water and laughed all the way from his belly. It would be nice to feel fear, he thought. It would be nice to feel anything. He was hollow. Empty. Laid bare. If he ever got the HEV suit off—no, _when_ he got it off, _when_ —he suspected that everything organic that was left of Gordon Freeman would come spilling out, and he would wash away like the tide against the sand.

“Yo, Feetman,” Benrey said from somewhere off to his left, voice pitched low. “Keep him distracted. Me ‘n Bubby got a, uhh. Plan.”

Gordon nodded, knowing Benrey could see him, not trusting himself enough to answer out loud. He took a deep breath and looked up at Tommy—what used to be Tommy? At what Tommy had become? Or maybe, Gordon thought, what Tommy had always been. Gordon took a step out of the shadow he had been hiding in.

“Tommy, you don’t have to do this, man,” Gordon said, and oh, his voice sounded broken, _hurt,_ even to himself.

Tommy honed in on Gordon’s voice, leaning down so fast it seemed to Gordon like space itself had contracted around him. Shit, maybe it had. Either way, Gordon found that he couldn’t look at him directly. It hurt too much. Was it a physical hurt, or some other, deeper kind? Gordon found that he wasn’t sure, exactly. He didn’t feel anything, but when Tommy turned his burning gaze on him, Gordon felt too much, too much. He looked past Tommy. Focused on a point somewhere behind his head (His head? Did Tommy still have a corporeal form? Unclear).

“It’s okay,” Tommy said again. It was like his voice was inside the HEV suit, inside Gordon’s _brain,_ rattling every single loose piece of him as if sanding him down, sifting him smooth. “I have to—have to do this. We’re—I’m your _friend._ Don’t you want to—uh, don’t you want to stay here? With me?”

“No, Tommy—Tommy, _God,_ I just want to go home, man,” Gordon said. “Please.”

Tommy laughed, his beautiful, sparkling laugh that made Gordon see glimmering images of flowery meadows and clear river streams in his mind’s eye. Gordon was tired. He was so, so tired.

“Are you—do you believe in God, Mister Freeman?”

Gordon hesitated a moment too long.

“I don’t think he’s here. Maybe not anywhere,” Tommy said. “You can—you could always try asking, though.”

 _You’re wrong, you’re wrong,_ Gordon thought. If God had been anywhere before, he had been in Tommy’s eyes. In Tommy’s smile. In the way Tommy had tenderly, so tenderly, taken Gordon’s remaining hand and led him to the med station. Maybe God still lived, even now, in one of those other branching timelines, one of the ones Gordon had been too unwilling, too ignorant to see.

“Mister Freeman, it’s—it’s empty here!” Tommy said. “It’s _empty_ and _cold_ and—but you, you’re real. You fill this place. If you’re not here, then it’s—there’s nothing.”

Gordon looked around for Benrey, or any sign of Bubby or Dr. Coomer. He didn’t see anyone, which hopefully meant their plan was working. “Tommy, I—if you want me to stay here so bad, dude, then why are you trying to _kill me?”_

Tommy blinked. He blinked with a lot of eyes, or maybe he blinked with the regular amount of eyes. Gordon could swear he felt the flutter of eyelashes. An otherworldly breeze seemed to emanate from Tommy, dislodging a strand of Gordon’s hair from where it was tucked behind his ear. It tickled his face, but Gordon didn’t move to fix it.

“Huh?” Tommy asked. “No, that’s not—I just want to keep you safe and sound with me and Sunkist! Besides, death is—it’s nothing to be scared of, you know. You would get to, to rest. You’d be _safe._ Don’t you want to rest, Mister Freeman?”

“I…” Gordon faltered, because he _did_ want to. He wanted to rest so, _so_ badly.

“Please!” Tommy asked. “Please, I—I couldn’t protect you before, I wasn’t strong enough, I was so _scared,_ but now I—I _know_ I can do it! I can do it if you let me.” Tommy seemed to ripple in a wholly unnatural way, like he was nothing more than light being refracted over and over again through a series of prisms. He reached out for Gordon with his (Four? Six? More?) brilliant, shining arms.

Gordon tried to scramble back, tried to _go,_ but it was like he was in a dream and he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, couldn’t, couldn’t, _couldn’t._ “Tommy, I don’t—I can’t—fuck, fuck, man, _Tommy—”_

“Please,” Tommy said again, and it was like he was speaking with a thousand voices that all layered over each other, drowning everything else out, and someone was yelling, and it might have been Gordon.

No, wait, it was—was that Bubby?

“—don! Do it _now,_ Gordon!”

“Go ahead, Gordon, we’ve got your back!” That was Dr. Coomer’s voice, strong and serious, cutting through the light and fog currently occupying Gordon’s brain—

“Fucking _shoot him_ already!”

And that was it. All of a sudden, it was like Gordon could see and hear clearly for the first time in what felt like _hours._ Maybe days. He planted his feet as firmly as he could, lifting his gun hand and aiming it in Tommy’s direction. He bore down even though every muscle in his body was screaming, screaming, _screaming,_ and he saw Tommy rear back, windmilling his arms—

Everything shattered, then. Everything was shards. Like the world had been a crystal chandelier waiting to fall. White flashes of light rippled through the space around him, so bright that Gordon had to shield his eyes. He heard the sound of breaking glass every time he moved, every time he breathed, like the space around him had broken so thoroughly that even the slightest movement only displaced it further.

Gordon heard a cough, and then Tommy’s voice, no longer echoing, called out to him: “Mister—Mister Freeman?”

Gordon lowered his arm, squinting against the harsh light. “Tommy?” He called back, unsure of his footing, unsure of himself.

“I’m—I’m here, Mister Freeman! H—please help me!”

Gordon spun wildly, everything illuminated as if by strobe lights, trying to run towards Tommy’s voice.

“Over here,” Benrey called from somewhere off to Gordon’s left. “He’s, uh—he’s here. Mostly.”

“I can’t—I can’t fucking _see!”_ Gordon shouted, panicking. “It’s too _bright!”_

Another hacking cough, and then Gordon saw it—Sweet Voice, weak and faint but still there, gray to blue lights suspended in midair. Gordon stumbled towards it. He heard Benrey start singing, too, and then there were more colors, guiding Gordon forwards, inch by inch.

He almost tripped over Tommy, what was left of Tommy, who was laying on the ground, head resting on Benrey’s thighs. Bubby and Coomer were sitting on the ground off to the side, grasping at each other like their lives depended on it, and maybe it did. Gordon sank to his knees next to Benrey, running his hand through the singed ends of Tommy’s hair. He reached out and straightened Tommy’s propeller hat, almost unthinkingly. The flashes of light had slowed to a rate that was easier for Gordon to process. He couldn’t hear glass anymore, either; just the blood that was rushing through his ears.

“Tommy, I—this wasn’t supposed to happen,” Gordon said, voice hoarse.

“Nothing is—nothing’s ever _supposed_ to happen, Mister Freeman,” Tommy said, reaching up towards Gordon, grasping at the back of his neck. “It just does.”

Gordon looked at Benrey, who shrugged.

“No predetermined deaths,” Benrey said.

“Benrey’s—he’s right,” Tommy said. “I’m—oh, Mister Freeman, I’m really—I’m so—”

“Don’t,” Gordon said. “Don’t apologize, Tommy, I can’t—you’re gonna be alright, man, please.”

“No, I—it’s okay, Mister Freeman. I was really—um, I was selfish. Wanted you to stay here, with me...Thought I could—could protect you from—” Tommy coughed, turning his head.

“It’s—it’s okay,” Gordon found himself saying, and God, _God,_ he knew Tommy was big, he was a tall guy, so why did he look so broken, so _small,_ laying half in Benrey’s lap and half in Gordon’s?

“Can—would you do me a favor, Mister Freeman?”

“Gordon,” he said, trying so hard to keep his voice steady, _needing_ to keep his voice steady for Tommy. Everything was for Tommy. Everything, everything. “Call me Gordon, Tommy, please.”

“Ah— _Gordon,”_ Tommy said, and Gordon could feel himself on the verge of a breakdown right then and there.

“Tommy, dude, I’m here, I’m right here,” Gordon said, and he knew he was babbling now, but it was all he could do. He rubbed his thumb over Tommy’s cheekbone.

“Kiss me,” Tommy said, and Gordon had to hold back a sob, and then he was leaning down and they were kissing kissing _kissing_ and it wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough, would _never_ be enough—

Gordon felt a hand on his gun arm and jumped, looking down to see Tommy’s long fingers wrapped around the barrel. Tommy pulled at Gordon’s arm gently, so gently, positioning it so the barrel was against his temple.

“No,” Gordon said, “No way, Tommy, no, I can’t, I—I won’t—”

“You have to,” Tommy said. “You have to, so you can get out of here, please—Gordon, I—I want you to, I want—I want, I want so much, but really, it’s—it’s okay.”

Gordon could see, then, the branches of time growing and breaking off in every direction; could see all the choices before him, racing further and further away from him, stretching so far that the endings became obscured. It was overwhelming. There was too much, too much.

Gordon felt Benrey’s hand on his shoulder, a solid presence, grounding him in reality.

When he spoke, Benrey’s voice was quiet. “Let Tommy go."

**Author's Note:**

> sweet voice translation: dove grey to deep blue means "im so sorry for hurting you"
> 
> please blame isaac [jewishtommycoolatta](http://jewishtommycoolatta.tumblr.com) for making me want to write final boss tommy freelatta angst fic in the first place, and the rest of the jewish hlvrai server for enabling me <3
> 
> as always u can find me over at [jewishbubby](http://jewishbubby.tumblr.com)!


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